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“I’m listening now.”
Patrick pauses, seeming to actually consider Dad’s offer. Igor notices and growls. “The hell you thinking, O’Leary? The girl is married to me now.”
Patrick tilts his head in the Russian’s direction but keeps his eyes trained on my dad. “Not until that license is filed, she isn’t. What did you have in mind, Dante?”
“Marry Rose to Michael. Make their son legitimate and heir to both of our families.”
“And your seat?”
Dad clenches his jaw; the pain on his face is clear as day, and I know he’s going to say yes.
But before Dad can surrender, Igor rushes forward, the steel blade of a knife in his hand catching in the fluorescent lights.
Time slows as a few things happen all at once.
Rose lets out a scream as Igor plunges the knife into her side.I shout and push forward, desperate to get to her side.Blood instantly stains her white dress. Patrick subconsciously releases her, and she falls to the ground, her hands clenching her side where blood seeps through her fingers like water through paper.
Patrick swings his gun at Igor and fires. The Russian stumbles backward, knocking into a table holding dozens of ceremonial candles. It crashes to the ground, and flames ignite the lace curtains, climbing high to the ceiling in mere seconds.
A second gunshot rings through the air, and a body falls near me, but I can’t tell who it is. I focus solely on Rose, who lies only a few feet before me. I reach out for her. She sees me and tries to reach me too. Tears cascade in twin currents down her face as she mouths my name.
The edges of my vision are fading to black.
God, I really do love her. I want the chance to tell her that every day, if given the chance, but there’s no redemption for me. No miracle to bestow on me. My wicked life has come to a close. My dark choices have always led to this point. I’m just happy that, for a moment, I was blessed to know an angel and be loved by her.
“Mia piccola rosa,” I whisper on an exhale. I love you, Rose.
My soul feels at peace. Even my demons fall silent as a heaviness I’ve never known falls over me, stealing my breath. Darkness swoops in, dragging me down, and I know no more.
34
Rose
One week later
“He looks like Aiden did as a baby,” Grace admires her nephew in her arms.
I peer at Liam’s sleeping face and smile, seeing the resemblance to our little brother. “I was thinking the same thing the other day. Until he opens his eyes, that is.”
That’s when he looks like his dad.
My sister’s hand lands on my knee. She squeezes it gently. “Michael’s going to be okay.”
It’s been one week since the wedding and fire at the church. One week since Michael was placed in a medically induced coma from complications of the gunshot wound my father gave him. But he’s alive. Something everyone reminds me of several times a day because it’s something I need to hear often.
I lean back in the hospital chair and swallow back the painful groan when my stitches pull on my side. If Grace sees it, she’ll go tattle to Gabriella, who will then tell my doctor, and I refuse to spend a day longer than necessary in this bed.
Turns out, Igor did more damage than a simple stab wound. He nicked one of my ovaries, and while the doctors fought hard to save it, they were forced to remove it. I’m coming to terms with the knowledge that I only have one ovary now. It will make conceiving in the future more difficult but not impossible.
If I still have a future with Michael, that is.
Grace eyes me, noticing my stiff movement. “Rose—”
I frown. “Don’t even think about telling Gabriella. Today is the first day I’ve been able to walk on my own to the damn bathroom.”
Grace holds her hands up in surrender. “Fine. Just don’t come crying to me when you pop a stitch from pushing yourself too hard, too fast.”
“I won’t because…I won’t,” I reply childishly, earning an eye roll from my big sister. I reach out, take her hand, and squeeze it. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
